Jacques Louis sits in an orange chair in a cluttered room, his head against the wall and feet extended, as he checks off a list in a graphing notebook. Someone comes in about every four minutes to ask him a question. The first day of the Churches Helping Churches pastors’ retreat has been a long one.
As the director of S.T.E.P., which is hosting the retreat, and as one of the few people who speak the three relevant languages here–French, Creole, English, Jacques is everybody’s go-to guy. The exhaustion would irritate most, but that’s hardly the thought that’s on his mind.
“I’m pretty relaxed,” he says. “There were lots of worries at the beginning of the day. Not everything was ready, but it all went well.”
He’s talking about the fact that the shipping container with all of CHC’s materials for the event–including the event tent, cots, and audio Bibles for attending pastors–have yet to be released. (Organizers were furiously translating a manifest of the container’s contents into French that evening.) Hence the reason Jacques is holding the list of air mattresses.
“We made do even though it’s not a paradise,” he says, as pastors stretch out on air mattresses, some inside the meeting room, some on the open-air deck a few yards away. “We just want them to sleep well so they can be well rested for tomorrow.”
About 150 pastors–of all ages and dressed nearly uniformly in slacks and a short-sleeved polo shirts–arrived this afternoon from all over the tiny Caribbean nation. The goal was 200, but the space was more limited than expected, and organizers had to turn away some who wanted to attend.

They participated in two sessions on the the purpose of the retreat and being in a time of need, then spent over an hour in group discussions led by pastors from the Haitian diaspora. Next, was dinner where they mingled while eating the rice and beans, chicken, and green beans.
“I was really encouraged to see them come from so far, from all the extremities,” says Leslie, 48, a staff member from Port-au-Prince.
Many of the pastors have come to be able to share with other pastors in their country as they all deal with the effects of the cataclysmic Jan. 12 earthquake. As the leaders in their community, many haven’t had anyone with whom to process the after affects.
At dinner, a middle-aged pastor in a corn-blue button-down shirt and patterned tie eats quietly. He has a walkman holstered on his belt. The tape, he says, is Angeline Sanon, a popular national musician.
Another young pastor wants to find someone to talk to because he’s worried about his sister, who’s been somewhat mentally unhinged since the 7.0 quake hit the impoverished capital four months ago. It’s affecting him a lot, he says, but that was already evident. He’s eventually brought to Jacques to see what, if anything, can be done.
A pastor named Rhony talks about his love of sports (volleyball and “Seattle’s basketball team, the Supersonics!”–yes, news travels slowly here).
Then he stops. “This means a lot to us that you all [from the states] are here,” he says. “There’s all this baggage,” he says, motioning to his head. “After the quake, everybody was coming to us with their problems, saying ‘Pastor, pastor,’ and we didn’t have anyone to go to ourselves.”
Later that night, the dozen American pastors and clinical psychologists who are teaching and leading this week get together to debrief. Pastor Robert is encouraged by the pastors’ participation, that they were open to raising their hands and expressing their fears during the talks this afternoon. Pastor Mike is (pleasantly) surprised by certain small group leaders who, he says, really got the vision for the purpose of the groups. Overall, they get the sense that the Haitian pastors are appreciative of the support and comradeship the conference is providing, and that it’s unifying pastors from across the country and within specific regions.
“This brings a lot of denominations together,” says Pastor Sam, a Haitian from Fort Lauderdale. “This is a great week, and I will hope [the pastors] will spread the word. They’ll go home and talk to others who didn’t have anywhere to go. I think this is a really good accomplishment.”
As the meeting wraps up, CHC Director Thomas Kim walks over to Jacques and puts a hand on the tall Haitian’s shoulder. “Jacques, thank you so much for all you did today getting everything done,” he says.
Jacques’ eyes pop, “But it wasn’t me who did anything, it was God!”